Unexpectedly
by KnifeInTheCrayonBox
Summary: Rapunzel never thought her new life could leave her asking the same question she asked in her tower—when will her life begin? This was supposed to be her happily-ever-after, but nothing is as it seems. Not her parents, or her new life and certainly not the stable boy Hiccup, who Rapunzel can't seem to figure out. Only one thing is certain, he's the only one who seems to understand.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Standing in a crowd full of people, with music, dancing, and laughter swirling all around me, I was the happiest I had ever been.

For the first time in my life, I had everything I could have ever wanted—two loving parents, a life outside of my tower, and Eugene. There was nothing more I needed. Isn't it funny how just when you think you have everything you could ever want, something comes along to change your perspective?

I didn't know it, but I should have paused and memorized that moment. What I didn't realize back then, was that I was quite possibly the happiest I would _ever_ be, because whenever you reach your highest moment, the only place you can go from there is down. Sooner or later, gravity always catches up with you.

I knew it would be hard to adjust to a life I'd only ever dreamed of for so long. I knew there was be difficult moments and hard times, but what I never expected was to feel just as unsatisfied as I was back in my tower—asking myself the same questions I did back then. Maybe I'd always had a flawed sense of freedom. Perhaps there was no such thing, and that the trick was learning to be content in whatever cage you found yourself in.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, let me start at the beginning. Well, the beginning of a new chapter of my life, anyway…

When I was first reunited with my parents, they had been so happy to see me they never questioned who the man standing next to me on the balcony was. For that first day, there was just a lot of hugging and crying, with an overall sense of joy. _Then_ came the questions.

My parents had assumed he was a prince, or maybe even a knight from some other kingdom, so they weren't too impressed to find out he was just a common thief who happened to stumble upon my tower. But since Eugene had been the one to save me and return me to my family, the King—er, I mean, my _father_ —pardoned all his crimes and was willing to grant him one request.

He asked for my father's permission to court me.

Both Mother and Father expressed reservations about me courting a former thief—a thief who stole from _them_ , no less—but I assured them that he was a changed man. Even so, they had hoped I would court, and eventually marry, a prince. But even though they weren't thrilled with my choice, they wanted me to be happy, so they agreed to give their consent…as long as we waited a while before getting engaged and married, to which I happily agreed.

I peeked into Eugene's new room in the palace to see him standing up on a pedestal. His arms were stretched out wide as the Royal Tailor, Mr. Helmut, made the finishing touches to his new clothes.

"Hey, Rapunzel, what do you think?" he asked when he finally noticed me standing there.

I gave him a smile as I walked into the room. "It looks great!"

"Ta da! Is finished!" Mr. Helmut announced with a thick French accent, jumping up and gesturing towards Eugene. "Spin! Spin! Show her full effect!"

Eugene smiled and gave a twirl before walking over to me. The new suit did look handsome on him. With a crisp white undershirt, a black leather buttoned-up vest, and tanned leather pants, he looked like a new man.

"You know, this is a lot more comfortable than my old clothes." He turned to Mr. Helmut and gave a nod. "Thank you!"

With a bow, Mr. Helmut turned and left. My eyes roamed over Eugene's new room—noting the similarities with my own bedroom just down the hall. Crisp, white wallpaper with gold trimming lined the walls. All around the room were various decorations featuring a golden sun—the crest of our kingdom. White roman pillars were placed around the room, holding up beams lined in gold that supported the dome-shaped roof.

Like the rest of the room, there was an image of a sun on the ceiling. Glass doors led out to a balcony that overlooked the palace gardens. On a good night, the lights from the village could be seen from over the palace walls. The color scheme of all the palace bedrooms seemed to be white and gold. It was a lot less colorful than the hand painted bedroom walls back in my tower, but this was my new home.

"How do you like your room?"

His brown eyes scanned over the huge room. "Eh, not quite up to my usual standard."

I smiled and put a hand on my hip, trying to look stern but unable to keep the smile from pulling at my lips. "Eugene."

"I'm kidding. It's really nice, Rapunzel. All of this—" He turned and gestured around. "It's all I've ever dreamed of, but I never thought it would actually come true."

"And let's not forget about me," I teased, reached forward to bring his gaze back to me. He smiled and wrapped both arms around my waist, pulling me close.

"Of course. You _are_ my dream." He leaned forward and gave me a kiss.

* * *

"Mother?"

At the sound of my voice, my mother looked up from the book she had been reading and gave me a warm smile. A guard had come to my room minutes earlier and informed me that Mother wanted to speak with me in the library. Setting her book aside, she beckoned for me to come over. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, we have some things we need to talk about." She patted the empty space next to her on the sofa. I walked over and sat down just as a maid walked in with a tray. On the top was a white teapot decorated with golden sun designs. Two teacups sat on saucers that matched the designs on the teapot.

The girl looked to be about my age, I noticed, as her gaze met mine. As I took in her features, a shiver shot down my spine. She had black curls—just like Gothel, and her hair was the same length, reaching halfway down her back. Her eyes were a much bright shade of hazel than Gothel's grey gaze, but still reminded me of them all the same. She must have seen my unease, because she raised an amused eyebrow before shooting me a smile as she set down the tray.

"Thank you, Cassandra," my mother said. Cassandra dropped into a curtsy before leaving the room. Mother flipped the teacups over on their saucers and poured some tea before handing it to me. I took a small sip—noting the distinctly minty taste.

"Now that you're home, Rapunzel," Mother began, "there's some things we need to discuss. You've lived your whole life with barely any education, and since you are a princess, I think we should begin training you in your royal duties, as well as the basic training you may have missed out on."

"Oh, of course! That sounds like fun!"

"There will be classes on languages, penmanship, piano, embroidery, painting, and of course, horsemanship to begin with—all the usual accomplishments of a princess."

"I'm already really good at embroidery and penmanship. Mother Go—" I caught myself and quickly amended, "Uh, I mean, Gothel taught me reading, writing and sewing. I made a lot of my own dresses over the years, and I painted a lot too—you should have seen my tower, it was covered with paintings!"

Her smile was tight. "I'm sure, but I'd still like for you to take the classes."

Whenever I mentioned my tower or Gothel, Mother's expression would always harden. I knew she didn't like me talking about those years I was gone, or about the woman who kidnapped me, but it's not like I could pretend it never happened; it _did_ happen. As fake as it may have been, I had a lot of good memories in that tower. I didn't _want_ to pretend it never happened.

I gave a swallow and glanced down at the brown liquid in my cup. "Of course. Are there any other classes?"

"There are a lot of things to learn, but I'm sure you'll catch up quickly. You've missed out on eighteen years of training, so we'll start out small, all right, dear?"

"Yes, Mother. When will I start?" I glanced up with what I hoped was a determined look on my face.

"Well, tomorrow would be preferable, but we can wait a while if you need more time to get settled. Once you've become accomplished in these areas, your father and I will add more classes. How does that sound?"

"It sounds great. I can't wait to begin!"

Her eyes crinkled around the edges as her smile widened. "I'm happy to see you're so excited to learn." She stood and extended an elbow to me. "Would you like to meet your tutors?"

I gave a nod and stood, threading my arm through hers. Together we walked down the hall and as we came upon the throne room, two guards opened the doors for us. My father sat up on this throne, and before him stood was a man who looked to be a little older than my parents. He wore a stiff black suit, with his hair was neatly combed back. A pair of spectacles balanced precariously on the end of his long nose and thin lips were pressed into an even finer line.

As soon as Mother and I sat down, Father cleared his throat and bid the stranger to come forward. He did as Father commanded, and kneeled down at the first step before climbing up to the top. His sharp grey eyes scanned over me, as if assessing me.

"This is your new tutor, Rapunzel. His name is Mr. Abbott. He is the best there is in the areas of language, writing, and reading," my father said.

I gave him a smile and a nod. "Very nice to meet you, Mr. Abbott."

"The pleasure is all mine, Your Highness," he said, but something about the way his lips curled told me he didn't find meeting me a pleasure at all.

Mother turned and gave a nod to Mr. Abbott. "Thank you for coming, Mr. Abbott. We look forward to you instructing our daughter. She will be at the study room bright and early tomorrow morning." With a bow, he took this as his dismissal and left.

"Who will teach me the other subjects?"

"I am quite accomplished at embroidery, so I will be teaching you, and your painting instructor should be arriving in the next day or so. I believe you have already met the man who will teach you piano. His name escapes me at the moment, but I remember him being there at the celebration for your return."

"Oh, his name is Hookhand!" I exclaimed, happy to hear that there would be a familiar face around.

Mother chuckled. "I meant his real name, dear."

"That _is_ his real name. He's a Viking, and he said Vikings believe that giving their child a terrible name will scare off gnomes and trolls."

Mother raised a single eyebrow at that piece of information. "Oh…I see." Clearing her throat, she continued, "As for your instructor in horsemanship, it will be overseen by the Stable Master. Come, we can meet him right now."

Mother led me out to the stable grounds behind the castle. I caught sight of Maximus standing in the training field, inspecting the castle guard. Each man was now equipped with a frying pan. As we entered the stables the smell of fresh straw and the musky scent of horse fur hit my nose. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath, but when I opened my eyes, I saw my mother had scrunched her nose up at the smell. We passed horses of various colors, and I patted each one on the snout, enjoying the feeling of their soft fur beneath my hand. I loved animals, and was especially looking forward to my horsemanship lessons.

Turning a corner, I caught sight of a man standing with his back to us. From what I could see of him, he wore a plain, dark green shirt that fit snugly around his slim form with tanned brown pants beneath that. On one foot he wore a leather shoe, and on the other was a shoe that looked very similar—but with bite marks and bits of spit on it. He must not have noticed us standing there, because he kept on talking to the horse in front of him.

"Yeah, I see that sparkle in your eyes," he said, running a hand down the brown horses' snout. "I know you were the one who chewed on my boot. I can see it in your eyes, so it's best to fess up now. I'll ask you again, did you do it?"

I raised a hand to my mouth to hold back a giggle. Seeing this boy talk to the horse reminded me of the way Pascal and I talked to each other—we were so in sync it didn't matter that we couldn't speak the same language. We knew what the other meant.

The horse let out a whinny and nodded. The boy nodded his head up and down, copying the motion. "Yeah, I thought so. Bad horse, very bad!" He scolded, holding up a finger and wagging it in front of the horse, but I could hear the slight teasing tone to his words—the amused lilt in his speech. "No more chewing on my boot, do you understand?"

Mother came to a stop and cleared her throat. The man jumped, and spun around with a startled look on his face. I was immediately surprised by how young he was—especially for someone with the title of Stable Master. He looked around my age, maybe a year or two older.

"Oh, Your Majesty. Hi, hello. Hey," he stammered, reaching a hand up to rub the back of his neck as a pink blush spread across his cheeks. "I, uh, didn't see you there. Sorry about my appearance." He looked down at his dirty clothes and quickly wiped both hands on his pants.

"It's quite all right, Mr. Haddock. I just wanted to introduce you to my daughter, Rapunzel. I spoke with you yesterday about instructing her in the art of horsemanship."

"Oh, yes. Of course. Nice to meet you, Your Highness," he said, extending a hand. I was just reaching out to shake it when Mother cleared her throat, and the boy's smile instantly faded, replaced by an embarrassed look. He pulled his hand away, dropping it back to his side. "Oh, right. Sorry." He gave a stiff bow.

As he rose I suddenly noticed how green his eyes were—almost the same shade as mine, but lighter, and so full of spirit. He had brown hair that stuck out in nearly every direction, with a few loose strands that hung in his eyes. He quickly brushed them aside when he noticed my stare, biting down nervously on his lip.

"I look forward to our lessons," I said. "I really love animals."

At this his eyes widened slightly in surprise, and a smile spread across his face. "Yeah, me too."

Mother's hand on my arm brought my attention back to her. "We had best get back inside, dinner will be served shortly. You may return to your duties, Mr. Haddock."

As Mother and I walked away I turned my head back to catch his gaze. I gave a small wave and right before I turned around, I saw him wave back, lips parting to reveal a smile.

* * *

After dinner that evening I felt like taking a stroll around the village and visiting some of the friends I'd made. I grabbed a cloak from my room before setting off. I was halfway down the main staircase when I heard Mother's voice.

"Rapunzel?" Turning around, I saw her descending down the stairs. I paused and waited for her to reach me. There was a slightly confused look on her face, and worry in her eyes. "Where are you going?"

"I'm just going to visit some friends in the village," I explained, gesturing towards the doors. The worry in her eyes grew. What was wrong? Did something bad happen in the village?

"Rapunzel, I don't think that…I think you should stay here," she said, clasping both hands in front of her.

"Why?"

"It's not safe out there. What if something happened to you? I know your hair has lost its magic, but somebody could still try and kidnap you. They might hold you for ransom because you're the princess. You're safe inside the palace."

A sudden feeling of déjà vu gripped me—making my heart clench painfully as I was reminded of the excuses Mother Gothel gave me when I asked if I could leave my tower. Shaking away the cold feeling, I gave her a reassuring smile. "Mother, I'll be fine—" I started, but when I saw the scared look in her eyes I stopped mid-sentence.

"Rapunzel…I just don't want to lose you a second time. It was hard enough the first time. When you were taken away from me, it felt like a part of me died, but if I had to lose you again, I'd…" Her sentence trailed off as emotion choked her voice and tears filled her eyes. I didn't want to upset her, so I stayed quiet and nodded obediently.

"Yes, Mother."

She blinked the tears away and gave me an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, dear, but I just want to keep you safe."

 _So did Gothel_ , I thought, and immediately regretted it. Mother was nothing like Gothel. One wanted to use me for my powers, while the other just wanted to keep me safe. "But you have this whole palace to explore. There's enough in here to keep you entertained, and if you want to see your friends I can send a servant to invite them here for a visit. How does that sound?"

I could tell she was trying to make me happy, so I gave her a bright smile. Gothel never tried to compromise like Mother was trying to do now. "That sounds great."

She reached forward and brushed a few strands of brown hair away from my face. "I'll walk you back to your room."

As we walked down the hallways I wondered whether Mother would ever relent about me going out into the village. I'd only been home a couple weeks, so maybe it would take a while for her to soften up to the idea. After all, she'd just gotten me back after eighteen years of being apart. When we reached my door, she leaned forward and planted a kiss on my forehead before taking off down the hall.

I hung my cloak back up in the wardrobe, then walked out onto my balcony. The sun was low—painting the sky various shades of pink and purple. Leaning forward on the white marble railing, I let out a content sigh as I looked down at the village rooftops I could see from over the palace walls. I could still remember the crowded marketplace—bustling with life and excitement. All the smells and colors and sounds I experienced mixed together in such a wonderful way. I could still smell the scent of roasted chestnuts wafting over from the merchants stand; I could still feel the hard stone ground beneath my bare feet; I could still hear the melody of the song I had danced to in the streets.

I felt a frown tug at my lips and let out another sigh—this time it wasn't so happy. Would I ever be able to experience all those things again? Would I ever be able to leave the palace walls? There was so much out there I wanted to see—so much of the world that I still needed to know about.

All I had to do was convince Mother and Father that I would be safe out there.

* * *

 **This story has been a work-in-progress for almost a couple years now. While it's still not finished, I do have a lot written, and I figured that with the release of the TV series, it was time to post this. It will have certain elements that were featured in the TV series, (like the character Cassandra) but other things have been changed. This plotline was inspired by a picture I found on DevaintArt called "Hiccunzel. Week-Day 2: Royalty" by _moonlight-dragonart._ All I had to do was read the first line of the description: "It's said in the court that _princess Rapunzel_ is getting maybe to close to a _boy_ working in the stables," and my mind was racing with ideas.**

 **I'm just concentrating on having fun with this one, so it's a bit more laid-back than my other stories, and meant to help me get back into my writing groove after not writing for about a year. However, I hope you still enjoy it! Leave a comment letting me know what you think :)**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The next morning I woke up bright and early—just as I did when I still lived in my tower. My first few days in the palace had been hard, since my first instinct upon waking up was to clean my room. It was what I had done for so many years, but suddenly, I had a maid to do all that. I didn't have to cook or clean or do _anything_ , really. This morning, however, was the day I began my lessons. I was about to dress myself when there was a knock on my door. That was odd, nobody usually came to my room this early.

"Who is it?"

"It's me, dear," my mother's voice answered, and then the door swung open.

"Yes, Mother?"

"Rapunzel, since today you're beginning your training as a princess, I selected a lady-in-waiting for you." My mother stepped into the room and motioned for someone standing just outside to come in. The maid from before—the one who reminded me so much of Gothel—stepped into the room, giving me a bright smile. "This is Cassandra, she has been here since she was born and will help you in learning all the rules and duties of a princess."

"Oh...thank you, Mother." On the outside I was smiling, but inside I felt nervous and tense. Seeing Cassandra reminded me too much of Gothel, even though I knew she was gone for good.

"Well, I'll leave you to get ready."

Cassandra turned to Mother and curtsied as she left the room, closing the door behind her. As soon as she was gone, Cassandra turned to me. "Let's get you dressed, Princess."

She walked over to my closet and disappeared inside, then came back out with a purple dress and a few other items. She laid them out on my bed and then reached over for my nightgown, pulling it up. I stumbled away from her with a gasp, tugging my nightgown back into place. "What are you doing?!"

"I'm helping you dress," she said, as if it were an everyday occurrence.

"Thank you, but I can dress myself."

She crossed her arms and gave me an amused expression. "Hate to break it to you, Princess, but this is my job. You're a princess now, which means your lady-in-waiting—that's _me_ —helps you get dressed every morning. Even if you _could_ dress yourself, you'd still need help with your corset and dress."

"Corset?" I'd never heard the word before.

Cassandra gave me a shocked look. "You mean you've never worn one before?"

When I shook my head, Cassandra let out a sigh. "You'll definitely need my help, then. Come on, I'll show you how it works."

Even though Cassandra had insisted on dressing me, I made her turn around while I removed my nightgown, and then pulled on the chemise she told me I must wear under my dress, before letting her turn around. As soon as Cassandra reached around me to fasten the clasps on front of the corset, I felt my body tense. I didn't even realize I was holding my breath until she gave a sharp tug to the strings in the back, and the stiff corset tightened around my waist.

"It's too _tight!_ " I gasped.

"That's the point," Cassandra replied, but thankfully, she did loosen it a bit. "Though I suppose it will take some getting used to, so I won't lace it too tight today."

As soon as I was dressed and Cassandra had laced up my dress, I quickly dismissed her. A sigh escaped my lips when the door closed behind her. I could already feel my body relaxing. How would I survive with her as my lady-in-waiting when she reminded me so much of Gothel?

Shaking the troubling thoughts away, I hurried to the room Mother had shown me yesterday, and sat down at a mahogany desk that had a stack of parchment and various writing utensils on it. On an even bigger desk in front of mine was a stack of books that I assumed was meant for me. I must have been early, though, because Mr. Abbott was nowhere in sight. Maybe I should practice a little before he arrived.

I turned my attention to the inkpot placed at the front of my desk, and the white quill pen lying next to it. Picking up the feather, I dipped it into the ink and pulled a piece of parchment from the pile, placing it in front of me. I knew _how_ to write, but I had never used a quill or ink before. Ink was too valuable and hard to come by, so whenever I wanted to write something down, I used a sharpened piece of charcoal. How hard could using a quill be, though?

I pressed the tip down onto the paper and immediately a large drop of ink spread across the page. Pulling back, I bit down on my lip. Why did it do _that_? Maybe I was pressing down too hard on the pen. Before I could try again, the door swung open and I jumped. The pen slipped from my fingers and landed on the parchment—creating another large ink stain. Mr. Abbott walked over to my desk and raised an eyebrow when he saw the two large ink stains on the piece of parchment, then let out a sigh.

"I can see we have a lot to work on," he muttered as he walked over to his desk.

For the first half hour we worked on my _calligraphy_ , as he called it. It was similar to writing, only the letters were fancier—with lots of swirls and curves. When I tried to write the way Gothel had taught me, Mr. Abbott corrected me, saying that I should not write in such a manner.

"Why?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows in confusion.

"How one writes reflects their status in life. Royalty must write in such a way that is both functional and aesthetically pleasing to the eye. It separates them from the common folks, since only those of noble birth have the training required to learn such an art." As he said that, he lifted his chin up and seemed to gaze down at me, as if I was one of the 'common folks' he was referring to. His words held the utmost politeness, but his tone was clipped and tight, and the way his lip curled as he spoke reminded me of the way he looked at me when we first met. I gave a thick swallow and returned my gaze to the white piece of parchment in front of me.

After my lesson was over we began reading. It was much easier than my calligraphy class, since all I had to do was sit there and read for an hour, and it was so refreshing to read a book that I hadn't already read a hundred times before. I must have gotten wrapped up in the book, because all too soon Mr. Abbott was rapping his knuckles on his desk to get my attention. My book was put away and we began my languages class. Mr. Abbott said we would begin with the language our closest trading partners spoke—French.

After my lessons with Mr. Abbott were over, he sent me to the library for my embroidery lesson with Mother. As soon as I walked through the doors she looked up with a bright smile. On an elaborately carved table next to her chair were sewing supplies—needles, various colored threads, a pin cushion, and a pair of scissors. I sat down on the sofa next to Mother's chair and she handed me a white cloth pulled taut inside a wooden hoop.

"We will begin with the basics of embroidery. Today, I'll show you how to embroider a letter." She showed me how to thread a needle and tie a knot at the end—all of which I already knew.

When we actually started the embroidery, I began stitching my name. When I had finished the elaborate R—trying to make the embroidered letter resemble the calligraphy Mr. Abbott had said was 'the mark of nobility'—I held it up and Mother's mouth dropped open a little. She was still working on her letter.

"Very well done. I didn't know you were so good at embroidery," she said, and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. I told her yesterday that I was good at embroidery. Why would she doubt me? Did she think I had exaggerating my talents? Gothel may have kept me locked up in a tower, but she did her best to educate me.

Before I could think on it, she turned her gaze back to the cloth in her hands. The look in her eyes was different now—shining with what looked like pain and regret, but bordering on anger. Was she angry at me? Was it because I was good at something she had wanted to teach me? When she spoke again her voice was clipped.

"Let's try something a bit harder, then."

* * *

After my embroidery class it was time for the midday meal. Mother, Father, Eugene, and I all gathered in the dining room and discussed our day as we ate. Since Eugene was a part of my life now, Father had asked what profession he would like to learn—since he said Eugene would need _something_ to occupy himself, since the only profession he was particularly skilled at was thievery—so when Eugene answered he would like to learn the art of architecture, Father had found him an apprenticeship at a very well-known architecture company in Corona. Even though Eugene's official title once we got married would be Prince Consort, Father thought it best for him to have some training in a profession. I wasn't sure why he needed to learn a skill, but Eugene seemed excited about his apprenticeship—just as I was about my training—so I never questioned it.

After our meal, Mother walked me to my painting class in another wing of the castle. As soon as I walked through the doors I knew I was going to love this class. Already set up in middle of the room was an easel with a blank canvas sitting on it. On a table next to it were various colors of paint—more than I had ever seen before. High, arched windows against the wall had the curtains pulled back to let in shafts of sunlight.

A man with a head of messy black curls walked up to me with a smile on his face. He wore plain clothes that were splattered with bits of paint, and around his neck was a red neckerchief. His dark brown eyes scanned over my appearance, and I felt nervous under his intense gaze.

"Rapunzel, this is Mr. Márquez. He is one of the finest artists from Spain," Mother introduced. "Mr. Márquez, this is my daughter Rapunzel."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness." He placed an arm cross his stomach and gave a deep bow, spreading out the other arm with a dramatic flair.

"You too, Mr. Márquez."

"Shall we begin?" he asked, rising and gesturing to the blank canvas. Mother gave me an encouraging nod as she left. Mr. Márquez placed a hand on my shoulder and guided me over to the easel. "Today I just want you to paint a picture. It can be whatever you want. Once you have completed it I'll see what you need to improve on and we'll continue from there."

Smiling, I picked up the brush before dipping it into the paint. It took an hour for me to complete my picture—a painting of Eugene and I sitting in a boat, surrounded by floating lanterns. It was one of my favorite memories, so it seemed fitting that I should try and capture it on canvas. I was so proud of it that as soon as the last brushstroke was complete I grabbed the painting and turned it around so Mr. Márquez could see it.

For a few moments he just studied it, his face giving away nothing about what he might be thinking. Did he like it? Finally he reached a hand up and stroked his chin, turning his gaze to meet mine. "It has a whimsical quality to it—but that is the only good thing I can say about it." I felt my high spirits deflate like a balloon. He must have seen my expression change, because he went on, "Your painting is like a child's drawing—full of thick, short brushstrokes and cartoonish proportions—it lacks realism. There is no attention to detail, little to no shading, no mixing of the colors…" His words felt like a knife in my chest, and he must have realized this, because he quickly added, "But do not mistake my words, there _is_ potential in you. I am here to help you become the best you can be in painting."

I lowered my gaze to the ground as I put my painting back on the easel. It was childish? My eyes scanned over the brightly colored picture—looked it over with a critical eye. I had been so proud of it, but now I noticed the things Mr. Márquez had pointed out as flaws.

The proportions were a bit off, and there was a lack of realism, but it was so colorful and bright. It captured how I felt in that moment. Was that not good enough? Biting down on my lower lip, I thought back to all the paintings that covered the walls of my tower. Had they always been this way? I glanced at the painting once again and realized it _was_ like all the others in my tower. When I painted, I never paid much attention to detail or realism—only how much joy it brought me to capture my feelings in a very permanent way. It had _always_ brought me joy to paint, but looking at my painting right now, I only felt disappointment. I'd always thought I was good at painting, but I guess not.

Wrapping my arms around my chest, I forced a smile onto my face. "I look forward to learning from you."

Mr. Márquez offered me lots of tips on how to improve my paintings, and then class was dismissed. Before I left, he told me that tomorrow's lesson would be about realistic proportions. I found that I wasn't looking forward to it as much as I thought I would be.

Next was my piano class with Hookhand. I had never learned to play the piano, so my first lesson was spent learning the different keys, and then he started to teach me scales. The lesson seemed to fly by because of how much fun I was having. Hookhand was patient with me, and didn't make me feel bad for not knowing something, or for knowing too much.

"I heard that you got invited to play at a concert hall in Corona," I said once the lesson was over. I had my horsemanship lesson next, but Mother had insisted on accompanying me to my room to see how my new riding clothes fit me before going out to the stables. I was told to wait for her here in the Music Room.

"Yes, it's in three days. I won't be able to tutor you that day since I'll be preparing for the concert. Which reminds me, I meant to give these to you." He reached inside a pocket and pulled out four slightly crumpled tickets. "Enough for you, your parents, and Eugene. Oh, and they're front row, too! You'll be there for the concert that night, won't you?"

I took the tickets and gave him a bright smile. "Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world!" I drew in a breath and let out a content sigh. "So, how does it feel to live your dream?"

"It's great to finally play in front of crowds. As much as I enjoy screams of terror, I enjoy hearing people cheering for me to play even more." He struck a few notes on the piano before lifting an eyebrow. "And what about you? Now that you've lived your dream of seeing the floating lanterns, what happens next?"

"Well, Eugene said once you live your dream, you get to go find a new one. Eugene was my new dream, and now that we have each other…I don't know. I guess I get to find another dream." I bit down on my lip slightly, giving a small shrug. "Maybe my new dream is to be with my family and learn all I can about being a princess."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "I may not be an expert, but shouldn't a dream be something you're certain about?"

I looked away. That made sense…but if _that_ wasn't my new dream, then what _was_? Before I could give an answer, Mother strolled through the door. "Hello, Mr. Hookhand."

He stood and gave a bow. "Your Majesty."

Mother accompanied me back to my room and watched as Cassandra helped me change into the new riding clothes Mr. Helmut had made for me. Instead of a long gown, the outfit consisted of three different articles—a white button-up blouse with an elaborate necktie, a grey riding coat—as Mother called it—that had long tails in the back, but was short in the front, and a long grey skirt to match the coat. Instead of dainty slippers, I wore ankle-high leather boots fit for riding a horse. It was so different from my usual attire, but the clothes were soft and comfortable. As a final touch, Mother pulled out a black, satin top hat from a box in my wardrobe and placed it on my head. She smiled in satisfaction as she pulled away, quickly dismissing Cassandra, which was a relief for me. As soon as the door closed behind her, Mother brought both hands up to her chin and clasping them together.

"There, now you're ready. Mr. Haddock will have your horse already saddled for you by the time you arrive, so hurry along, dear."

I walked out to the stables and easily found Mr. Haddock inside one of the stalls. Instead of saddling a horse, he was grooming one.

"Have you ridden a horse before?" he asked when I stepped up beside him. I was surprised by this question. Most of my teachers today had assumed I was ignorant of what they were about to teach me. Being asked if I already had knowledge of the subject was a pleasant change…but unfortunately, I _didn't_ have any experience in riding a horse.

"No. Well, when Eugene brought me back to my parents we rode on Maximus, but I just sat on the saddle behind Eugene, so I guess that counts."

"It's something," he agreed with a nod. "But you've never ridden sidesaddle before, and that's what the Queen wants me to teach you. I just wasn't sure what you already knew. The Queen made it sound like you were kept locked up in a closet your whole life without any sort of education, but surely you weren't kept under a rock."

I could feel a smile stretching across my lips. "The woman who kidnapped me, Gothel, made me stay in a tower, but she taught me a lot—like how to read, write, cook, sew, and all sorts of things. She even taught me candle-making and chess." I turned my gaze to the ground, a frown crossing my lips. Everyone seemed to think I was ignorant about everything—like Gothel just kept me under a rock for eighteen years without letting me learn anything.

"Well, then I'm glad I'm not teaching you candle-making or chess. I can actually be of some use teaching you how to ride a horse." He gave me a smirk that brought a smile to my lips. "All right, let's start." He put the brush down and turned to face me. I gave a nod, looking around for a horse that was already saddled and ready to go.

"So…where is my horse?"

"First, you have to understand a few things. Most people think riding is just getting up on a horse and telling it what to do, but it's more than that. Riding is a partnership between you and the horse—you have to rely on each other, which means you need to establish trust first. I want _you_ to pick your horse."

My first instinct was to pick Maximus, since I was already comfortable with him, but I knew he had royal duties to attend to. He was the first animal to be given a job that would have normally been given to a human. Mr. Haddock led me out of the stall, latching the door behind him. As we walked through the wooden-walled hallway I looked in all the stalls.

Suddenly I felt something nudge my shoulder. I turned to see a brown horse sticking its head out of the stall, pushing its snout against my arm. It gave its mane a shake and snorted, as if it wanted me to pet it. I took a step forward and reached a hand out. The horse pushed it's snout against the palm of my hand, and I felt a smile pull at my lips. Running my hand down the white stripe along its nose, I was amazed at the rich brown color of its fur. Something about this horse was familiar…

"I want this one," I said, glancing back at Mr. Haddock.

He reached up to rub the back of his neck, a weary expression briefly crossing his face as he stared at the horse. "Of course."

"Is there something wrong with this horse?"

"No…it's just that she's the one who always chews on my boot." Walking over to the horse, he ran a hand down her muzzle. "Her name is Angel, which is ironic because she is the exact opposite. She has a talent for unlocking her stall door and wandering around the stables. She mostly finds her way into the food room, or she goes into my room and chews on my boot—but only the left one, for some reason."

I let out a laugh, realizing why she looked so familiar to me. "I still want her."

"All right, maybe she'll behave for you." He walked over to the stall and unlatched the hook before reaching for the rope attached to the halter and handing it to me. "I'm going to teach you how to saddle her. I know most people think it's the stable boy's job to saddle the horses, but I think everyone should at least know how to do it themselves."

He led both of us to a room filled with all sorts of equipment for riding horses. There were numerous saddles of all different shapes and sizes. Mr. Haddock had me tie the rope to a post before leading me over to the tack—explaining which ones we would need and what their uses were. First we brushed the horse and checked for any burs that might get pushed into her skin when the saddle was put on, then we put a small blanket on her back. After that, Mr. Haddock walked over to a saddle and picked it up. I held my arms out for it, but he hesitated this time. So far he had let me put everything on the horse, why was this different?

"It's a bit heavy, Your Highness," he said with a shrug, but I still held my hands out.

He eventually gave a sigh and carefully placed it into my waiting arms. I walked over to the horse and swung the saddle up onto her back. The look of complete surprise I saw on his face when I turned around made me laugh. "I used to pull Gothel up into my tower every day. I'm a lot stronger than I look."

"I don't think I'll ever underestimate you again," he chuckled before walking over to me. He showed me how to tighten the straps and make sure the equipment was secure. Then he took the rope halter from the horse's head before slipping on a black leather bridle. Once I had correctly saddled the horse, he handed me the reins and we walked out to a small, fenced-in ring.

"All right, now it's time to get up in the saddle." He walked over to me and clasped both hands together as he knelt. "Here, I'll give you a boost."

I was hesitant at first, but Mr. Haddock gave me an encouraging nod, so I walked over and placed my foot into his hand. With a small hop and a grip on the saddle, I pulled myself up while he pushed, helping me along. Once I was sitting in the saddle I tried to find a comfortable position before looking down. A curved piece of leather protruded from near the top of the saddle. Mr. Haddock hadn't told me the function of it. Was I supposed to hold onto it? It was a bit low for that and off to the left side, making it a bit awkward.

"What is this for?" I asked.

"This is the pommel. It's to keep you in place while you ride. See, you have to lift your skirt…" Mr. Haddock pulled up the edge of my skirt, so that my legs were exposed about an inch or two above my knees. I felt self-conscious and uncomfortable sitting there with my skirt hiked up to my lap. What was he doing?

"Now you just swing your leg over it…" Gently grabbing my calf, he moved my leg up and over the thing. Heat crept up my neck when I felt his hands touch my bare skin—leaving a strange tingling feeling in their wake. I felt the rough calluses on his hands as he repositioned my leg, but his touch was gentle and caring; despite the circumstances, I felt myself relax under it. The heat still climbed to my cheeks when he touched the calf of my other leg, sliding it into the stirrup. "There, now you're set." When I was secured in the saddle, I moved my skirts back down around my ankles and sat up tall, hoping he wouldn't notice my blush.

"We'll start slow, so just try to relax and feel the motion of the horse beneath you. Move with her." He walked to the front and grabbed the reigns, leading the horse in a slow walk around the ring—again and again. After a while I got used to the side-to-side motion of the horse and began to enjoy it. I glanced down at Mr. Haddock, wondering how someone so young could have such a high title—unless he was older than I thought. Maybe he had been working here since he was a child, that might explain it. He seemed to be really good with horses too.

"Mr. Haddock," I began, "how old are you?"

"Twenty."

"And how long have you been working here?"

"Five years."

I raised an eyebrow in questioning. "And you're already Stable Master?"

He paused, and turned to look at me. "Mr. Oswald—the previous Stable Master—saw something in me when I arrived. He was driving the royal family through the village when the horse got spooked. I saw people running and screaming as the horse ran down the streets. The carriage was knocking over carts and stands, so I jumped in and helped calm the horse. Mr. Oswald said he had never seen anything like it in all his years of training horses, so when he heard that I was looking for a job, he offered to take me on as his apprentice. He said there was something gentle and caring in me, and that animals could sense that." He gave a shrug, as if he didn't quite believe it. I hadn't known Mr. Oswald, but I could already tell he was right. Now only did Mr. Haddock seem to put the horses at ease, but he made me feel comfortable as well. "I didn't have anywhere else to go, and I loved animals, so I accepted. When Mr. Oswald passed away a year later, I took over his position."

"I'm sorry," I said, and he gave a nod before turning back around to lead the horse. "You said you _arrived_ here. Where were you from before that?"

He paused briefly at that question before resuming his walk. "This lesson is about teaching you how to ride, not about my past."

I was instantly reminded of Eugene's words when we had been walking through the secret passage _—"Sorry, blondie, I don't do backstory."_ Mr. Haddock didn't trust me yet—but I wanted him to. I wanted to know more about him and how he ended up here. I was also worried I might have pried too much, but then he glanced over his shoulder and gave me a small smile, as if to show there were no hard feelings.

I didn't bring up the topic again, but my curiosity about his past only grew. What was he hiding? And then, an even more troubling thought—what if he was running from something?

* * *

 **Happy early Easter, everyone! Hope you're all enjoying the second chapter! Thanks to everyone who favorited, followed, and reviewed!**

 **In response to Noctus Fury: I admit blacksmith or engineer may be better suited for Hiccup, but this was written based on a picture where Hiccup was a stable boy, and of course, we get the backstory in this chapter of why he's at this profession instead of something else. And of course it allows Hiccup and Rapunzel to get to know each other, since it's fitting that a princess learn how to ride horses ;) and don't worry, this won't be one of those one chapter fan-fics that gets forgotten, I'm just trying to pace myself with updates. I will try to update about once every 3 weeks, though I can't make any promises.**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

My classes took up most of the day, and when they finally ended it was nearing time for dinner to start. Once again, my parents, Eugene, and I gathered in the dining hall and ate while we talked about our day. We took turns talking and of course, the topic of my lessons came up. I told them my classes had been interesting and that I was excited to learn from my teachers, not wanting to disappointment by parents by saying that most of the classes had _been_ a disappointment, aside from Hookhand's piano class and Mr. Haddock's horsemanship class. After all, it was only the first day, and they were sure to get better. I just needed to get to know my teachers.

"Oh, and one more thing happened," I added after I got done telling them about my horsemanship class. I reached into a small pocket inside my dress and pulled out the four tickets Hookhand had given me. "Hookhand has been invited to play at Corona's Concert Hall in three days, and he gave me these tickets so we could all go see him perform."

I expected my parents to be happy, but instead they shared a nervous glance before turning their gaze to me. "Rapunzel, do you remember what I told you last night—about it not being safe outside the palace walls?" Mother asked gently.

"Actually, I've been thinking about that, Mother…" I began. Ever since Mother stopped me from going to the village last night, I'd been thinking about a way to convince them to give me a little freedom. "I'm going to be queen one day, right? One day I'll be in charge of the kingdom, and as Queen, I'll need to go out there and see my people. I'll have to leave these palace walls someday, so I think I should start learning now, so I can be prepared, just like I'm learning new things every day."

Mother just turned to give Father a look, and he spoke up. "Rapunzel, your mother and I just want to keep you safe. Yes, you will be Queen one day, but hopefully not for many, many years to come. I _do_ hope that when you become Queen, you will let your husband, as your partner, handle some of those duties that would require you to leave the palace, and appoint people in your place to travel to distant countries, but that's all in the future. Right now my number one priority is to keep you safe, and that means keeping you here in the palace, where I can protect you."

I felt my spirits drop—the grin on my face slowly slipping into a frown. I decided to change tactics. Maybe if they saw me out in the village, they'd see the world wasn't such a dangerous place and relent a little. "Okay, but this is different. I won't be walking through the village alone. You, Father, and Eugene will be there with me…to protect me."

I didn't feel like I needed to be protected after all I had gone through on my trip to the kingdom with Eugene. I had saved us from ruffians by getting them to share their dreams, I had saved Eugene from the guards when they came after us in the tunnel, and I had saved us from nearly drowning. I had told them the whole story, so I _knew_ they knew I was capable of defending myself. But I knew that saying they would be there to protect me would reassure them. Their faces softened just a bit, but still remained firm.

"Please? He's my friend—he's one of the one's who helped me escape when the guards came after me in the tavern, and he helped Eugene escape so he could come and rescue me from Gothel. After all he's done for me, I want to be there when he finally gets to live his dream."

 _That_ seemed to break down their resolve. Finally, Mother let out a sigh, looking to Father for his judgment. After a few moments of silence he put a hand over Mother's and turned to look at me. "Your Mother and I will discuss it."

I gave a nod, happy that they were at least _thinking_ about it.

* * *

I sunk down deeper into the warm bath one of the servants had drawn for me. The only water we had at the tower was hand pumped, and it was usually too much of a hassle to warm the water over the fire and pour it into the tub, so I took cold baths once a week—though Gothel always insisted I wash my hair every other day to keep it in good condition. Here at the palace, though, a warm bath was expected, and was much appreciated by me—especially after a day like today.

I leaned my head back against the porcelain rim and closed my eyes, letting the warm water lap at my neck. It felt so relaxing after such a long day. At the tower there never seemed to be enough things to do. Here there were plenty of things to do, but not always the time needed to do them. After the water turned cold, I grabbed the fluffy white bathrobe hanging from the back of a nearby chair and walked back into my room. Sitting down on my bed, I leaned over and opened the cage sitting on the dresser next to my canopy bed.

Pascal climbed out and crawled up my arm, settling on my shoulder. I lifted my shoulder up and felt him nuzzle against my cheek, making me feel a little better. I hated keeping Pascal in a cage all day, but Mother said that I couldn't let a wild animal run around my room—or worse, the castle. I think she was just scared of him. When she first saw him sitting on my shoulder, she let out a cry and grabbed my father's arm, pulling him in front of her. We reached an agreement where I was allowed to keep Pascal, as long as he remained in a cage. To make him more comfortable I asked the metal welder to make it spacious—with plenty of places for Pascal to climb and hang from, but even a gilded cage was still a cage. When no one was around, I would open the cage and let Pascal roam around my room.

"So, how was your day?" I asked. Pascal raised an eyebrow, as if to say, " _I was in a cage all day. How do you think it was?"_ I let out a small laugh. "I know, I know, but give Mother some time and she'll warm up to you. Then you won't have to be in the cage anymore. If it makes you feel any better, my day wasn't much better."

At this Pascal raised both eyebrows in questioning, silently asking what had happened. "My first lessons with Mr. Abbott went well enough, but I…" Biting down on my lip, I wondered if I should continue. "I get this feeling that he doesn't really like me. My embroidery class with Mother was…tense. She wanted to teach me how to embroider a pillow, but I already knew how. I think she was a bit jealous that Gothel had already taught me that, so I pretended that I didn't know much about embroidery to make her feel better. My painting class was…" I wasn't able to finish that sentence. "I found out that I'm not as good at painting as I thought I was. Mr. Márquez said my painting was childish." Pascal's expression changed to one of irritation, and he lifted a paw, clenching it into a small fist before pounding it against his other paw. I laughed, a smile once again crossing my lips.

"He's just trying to help me, Pascal." I drew in a breath and let it out. "After that, the classes got better. Learning to play piano with Hookhand was fun, and I made a new friend today. He works in the stables, and his name is Mr. Haddock." Pascal made a hand motion—as if to ask, 'what is his first name?' I bit down on my lip slightly. "I'm not sure. Mother didn't tell me, and he didn't say. Besides, she says it's rude to call someone by their first name if you don't know them well." Pascal gave a roll of his eyes, and I sent him a chastising look. "I know it seems silly, but it's just the way things are. I've lived my whole life not knowing what the outside world was like, so even though it's a bit odd, I still love it. It's better than the tower, right?"

I expected Pascal to wholeheartedly agree, but he just shrugged and looked away, not willing to meet my gaze.

* * *

The next couple of days were a bit better. Mr. Abbott still seemed to look down on me, but my classes with Mother were more relaxed since I began pretending to be ignorant about embroidery. During our first lesson I was able to chalk up my embroidered letter to beginner's luck, and Mother had accepted it so easily. All I did for the next couple of days was sit there while she instructed me and followed her instructions—occasionally messing up on purpose so she had a chance to fix it. As bad as it was to lie to her, I wanted to make her happy more than anything else.

My painting classes were still tense. I learned a lot about shading and shadows, but didn't have a lot of fun. The joy I always experienced while painting seemed to have faded away, and all I was left with was an idea of what my paintings _should_ be, instead of the happiness they used to bring me when I looked at them.

After that came Hookhand's piano class, and then Mr. Haddock's horsemanship class. I avoided discussing the past with him, and concentrated on keeping the conversation fun and light, which wasn't too hard. Mr. Haddock and I seemed to have a shared sense of humor, and it was so easy to relax and have fun while I was with him. His calm demeanor and easy manner were infectious, and I began to look forward to his classes more than all my others.

The next day was Hookhand's big concert, and I still hadn't heard from Mother and Father what their decision was, but I had a feeling they would tell me at dinner. Since I didn't have my piano class that day, I decided to show up at my horsemanship class early and get in some more practice. Riding a horse was strange to me, but I was becoming more and more comfortable with each passing day. Once I was dismissed from my painting class, I quickly changed into my riding clothes and headed for the stables out back.

Mr. Haddock wasn't where I normally found him, but I easily tracked him down by following his voice down the hallway. I came upon a horse stall and looked over the wooden door to see him sitting inside, back resting against the wall.

"All right, I'm almost done. Just hold still," he said, eyes glued to a leather bound book sitting in his lap. There was some sort of pencil in his hand—one that reminded me of the one's I used back in the tower. I suddenly realized he was sketching, and felt an excitement fill me. When the book tilted forward, I saw the upside down sketch of the horse standing in front of him. Suddenly he glanced up and our eyes met.

He let out a small yelp, and the book fell from his hands, while his pencil clattered to the stone floor and rolled away. "Y-your Highness!" he stuttered, quickly snatching up his book and standing. "I'm so sorry, I must have lost track of the time. Just let me put this stuff away—"

I held up both hands, silencing him. "No, you're not late, I'm early. My piano teacher had to get ready for a concert tonight and he couldn't come, so I figured I could come here early. It's my fault." I bit down on my lip in embarrassment. I should have known that Mr. Haddock might be busy doing other things. "I can go find something else to do, though, and come back later. I can see I've interrupted you."

He let out a nervous laugh as he picked up his pencil and opened the stall door, stepping out. "Oh, you didn't interrupt anything, I saw just sketching. Nothing important."

I glanced down at the book. "Can I see some of your drawings?"

At this, his other hand reached down to grip the book, holding it close. "Oh, um…they're not very good…"

"That's all right, I don't care if they're good or not," I said with a shrug. "I draw too—well, _paint_ really—but I'm not very good either. That's what my painting teacher says."

Mr. Haddock looked up in surprise. "Really?" When I gave a nod, he glanced back down at his sketch book. "All right, I'll show you my drawings if you show me your paintings."

I hesitated, remembering how Mr. Márquez had called my paintings childish. Although he had been teaching me for the past three days and I had been following his instructions, he still said they could use a lot of improvement.

"Well…" I looked at Mr. Haddock's hopeful expression. How could I expect him to share his drawings with me, even though he didn't think they were good, if I couldn't do the same? "All right."

He locked the stall door behind him before handing me the leather book. Opening the cover, I was greeted with a simple drawing of a dragon, as if looking down upon it. There was a smudge near the left tailfin. "A dragon?"

I looked up to see a nervous expression on Mr. Haddock's face. "Yeah. That wasn't drawn from life or anything, it just…it came from my imagination."

I let out a small laugh. "I didn't think it was drawn from life."

As I turned the pages I was greeted with more sketches of dragons—only these ones were more detailed. Then came sketches of landscapes and oceans, and then finally—a sketch of the Kingdom of Corona from the viewpoint of the bridge leading to the village. That must have been from when he first arrived here. After that there were various sketches of horses, and a few of an elderly looking man with a warm smile that could be felt through the black and white lines on the page.

"That was Mr. Oswald," Mr. Haddock supplied when I looked up at him. "He and I were really close."

"I wish I could have met him."

Finally, I came to the half-finished picture of the horse Mr. Haddock had been drawing only minutes ago. With a smile, I closed the book and handed it back to him. "Those are really good, I don't know why you say they're not."

He just gave a shrug and lowered his head, scratching at the back of his neck as a faint blush spread across his cheeks. I didn't understand why, but I felt a small sort of pride that I could make him have that sort of reaction. "Okay, now it's your turn."

I turned and headed down the corridor. "My paintings are in the art room."

Mr. Haddock followed behind me, pausing briefly to tell a nearby stable boy that he was in charge until he returned. When we reached the palace doors leading inside, he hesitated, looking up at the towering castle. "I…I'm not sure I'm allowed inside."

"You work here, why wouldn't you be?" I asked, opening the doors.

"The only time I've ever been inside is when the King or Queen sent for me, or I had an errand to run."

I took a step toward him and reached out, grabbing his hand. It felt warm and rough in comparison to mine, but I hoped that the calming effect he seemed to have on everyone else with his touch might somehow have rubbed off on me so I could calm _his_ worries. "Come on, it's fine."

It seemed to reassure him, so I pulled him through the doors before dropping his hand. I tried to ignore the feeling that a certain sort of warmth had left me at the same time his touch did. We made it up to the art room without interruption—though a few guards did give us a questioning look, but figured that since Mr. Haddock was with me, it was all right. I peeked through the door to the art room and saw that Mr. Márquez was gone.

I felt myself relax at the observation and strolled inside, walking over to the shelf where he kept my art. There were four canvases in total—one for every day we'd had class. I showed the most recent one to Mr. Haddock—a painting of a vase of flowers where I had been told to pay close attention to the shades and shadows. He nodded approvingly, but the smile he gave me didn't quite reach his eyes. Then I showed him the two others of objects Mr. Márquez had asked me to paint—once again telling me to pay close attention to detail and shadows.

The last one was my first painting, and the one I wasn't looking forward to showing him—but a deal was a deal, and when I made a promise I never, _ever_ broke it. As soon as his green eyes landed on the painting, they lit up with interest. He took the canvas from the shelf and held it out in front of him. "Wow, this is _really_ good!"

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "You really like it? Why?"

"It's so colorful and full of life! I mean, look at it—you can almost feel the excitement in it." A big smile stretched across his face. "I don't know. When I look at it, I just feel…"

"Happy?" I provided, and his eyes turned to me. This time the smile reached his eyes as he gave a nod.

"Yeah."

I felt a sense of pride fill me when I realized someone else saw the painting as I had—someone else understood what the painting was meant to show, what it was meant to convey. "My teacher said it was childish."

Mr. Haddock gave a snort. "Eh, what does he know? For almost my whole life I've been told I wasn't good enough. You can't listen to what other people say."

My eyes widened. "Who would say that to you?"

At this his smile dimmed a little, and he looked like he'd said something he didn't intend to. Instead of answering my question, he handed the canvas back to me. "Are these the only paintings you have?"

I put all the pictures back in the order they were placed so Mr. Márquez wouldn't know that we'd been in here, then turned to face him. "All the walls in my tower—the place where Gothel kept me—were covered with paintings, but these are the only paintings I have now."

"You were wrong, you know," he said, and I gave him an inquisitive look. "You're a great painter. It's your teacher who doesn't know what a good painting is."

I felt my heart soar at his words. It was one thing for someone who didn't know a lot about art to tell me my paintings were good, but for someone as skilled as Mr. Haddock—despite his claims that his drawings weren't very good—to tell me that they were good, meant the world to me. I thought about Mr. Márquez's previous comments. A fellow artist had called my work great, while another had called it childish. Who was I to believe?

"Have you ever painted before?" I asked, turning around to face Mr. Haddock.

"No. Where I'm from paint is used for painting your face for war, or for really special occasions." He turned his gaze to the cups of covered paint sitting on the table. "I guess I could have gotten my hands on some, but here paint is just too expensive. Besides, I'm more comfortable with my charcoal pencil."

"Well come on, then. You have to try now," I said, grabbing a few basic colors and pouring a small amount onto the wooden palette. "This paint is free."

I picked up the palette and showed him how to hold it, then handed him a brush and set up a blank canvas on the easel. "Um, are you sure I'm allowed to use these things?"

"Sure. Mr. Márquez may teach the class, but my parents pay for all the supplies, which means it's all really _mine_ , and I'm saying you can use it."

He chuckled. "Makes sense." He gazed down at the palette and then at the blank canvas. "I'm not sure I can paint, though."

"Just try. It's really fun."

He paused, biting down on his lip. "All right, but only if you come and paint with me."

"What? Like, on the same canvas?"

He gave a shrug. "Yeah, why not?"

I'd never heard of people painting together on the same canvas before. The idea seemed both strange and intriguing. It might be fun painting what I wanted, but also shaping my ideas around someone else's ideas as well.

"Can we…do that?"

"I don't see why not," he said, and then gave me a smirk. "but you'll have to watch out for my bony elbows."

I laughed as I grabbed a palette and poured some paint onto it. A few moments later I joined Mr. Haddock at the easel and dipped my brush into the yellow paint, while he chose red.

"Do you know what we're planning on painting?" I asked, and he gave a shrug.

"Nope, I'm just gonna start and see where we end up."

"Sounds like a good idea, Mr. Haddock."

I brought my brush to the canvas, only to find he had paused. When I turned to see what was wrong, he was gazing at me, as if he wanted to say something but wasn't quite sure how to.

"My name is Hiccup. You can call that if you want, Your Highness," he finally said, looking a bit nervous as he met my gaze. I felt my heart swell at this subtle offer of friendship—a sign that I was earning his trust.

"Okay, but only if you call me Rapunzel."

He gave me a smile that felt so _genuine,_ I couldn't help but smile back. "All right, Rapunzel."

* * *

 **Thanks everyone for all the follows, favorites, and reviews! Your support really inspires me! :)**

 **Gerryiscool: Since you left an anonymous review, you get a shout out here! :P Thanks for your review, I always look forward to hearing your thoughts on the chapter! :)**

 **Noctus Fury: Yes, Toothless is still a dragon. Almost everything in the HTTYD movie still happened here, with a few exceptions, but that'll all be revealed later ;) Nah, I don't think Rapunzel's mother could ever turn into Gothel, she's just upset because she's realizing she missed out on teaching her daughter a lot of things she always dreamed of teaching her.**

 **Ah, yes, I know the pain of that, I've got quite a few stories like that in my favorites section that have been sitting there for years without an update (I shouldn't talk, though, cause I'm guilty of it too, lol) but this will definitely be finished. I ship Mericcup too, actually! :D I'll ship Hiccup with most anyone, though, lol. But there's a sort of sweetness about Hiccunzel that I like, I'm glad you're starting to like them too :)**

 **Lol, well if you want to banish corsets, you'll need to invent the bra first, but I'm sure the ladies of your kingdom will thank you :P Thank you for your review, it really made my day to hear this is one of your favorite Hiccunzel fanfics! :)**

 **JustAGirl: aww, thank you so much! I'm glad to hear you're enjoying it! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

I took a step back and stared at the picture Hiccup and I had been painting for the past hour. Wiping a hand across my forehead, I gazed in admiration at the work of art. It was painted in a way that Mr. Márquez would call 'childish' but I loved how Hiccup's style mixed with my own. The canvas was a splash of colors and ideas.

In our painting there was a disproportionate tower built precariously on the edge of a cliff. Under it, waves slammed against the rocks—shown by the spray of water and white foam churning near the rocks. A long stream of blonde hair hung out from the window, blowing in the sea breeze, while a hand reached out towards the sky, as if trying to reach it. A man sitting on the back of a black dragon hovered near the tower's window, extending a hand to the woman inside. Their hands remained just out of reach, and the rider's face was obscured by a helmet.

I was responsible for the tower and the woman in it—while Hiccup had painted the cliff and waters, along with the dragon and the rider. The sky was a mix of red and yellow—creating an amazing swirl of colors, almost like a pinwheel spinning.

I placed my palette on a table and laid my brush down—making a mental note to clean both our palette's and brushes later on. The paint and supplies may all _technically_ be mine, but I knew Mr. Márquez would have a fit if he knew I'd let someone else in here to use the supplies. I would also have to hide the painting in my room somewhere. Mr. Márquez definitely wouldn't approve of it, since it had everything he criticized about my first painting.

"We should head to the stables for your lesson," Hiccup said, walking over to the table and placing his palette and brush next to mine.

I gave a nod and wiped my paint splattered hands on a nearby rag before handing the cloth over to him. As he cleaned his hands I suddenly noticed a speck of red paint on his cheek.

"Hiccup, you have a spot of paint right there," I said, raising a hand to my own cheek and scratching a finger against it to indicate where it was. He wiped the rag across his face, but managed to miss it. "Here, let me help."

I stepped up to him and took the rag from his hands, wiping away the red paint. When I removed the cloth, I found the paint had only smeared. Holding his chin firmly in my hand, I applied more pressure to the fabric, giving it a few swipes. Only when I removed the rag to see the red paint gone, did I notice how close I was to Hiccup. My eyes darted up to meet his, and our eyes locked. In that moment everything seemed to slow down and stop. Neither of us dared to move, or even to breathe as the moment stretched on. His eyes widened slightly and when he let out a breath, I felt it brush against my lips.

In the blink an eye, the moment ended and time seemed to resume. A pink tinge spread across Hiccup's cheeks as he took a step back and managed a nervous smile. "Uh, thanks." He rubbed a hand against the back of his neck, eyes staring down at the ground. "We should probably go to your lesson now."

I took a step back too, putting more space between us as I nodded weakly. What just happened?

* * *

At dinner that night I could hardly concentrate, too preoccupied by what had happened earlier. Why couldn't I get that one single moment out of my head? My horsemanship class had been a little awkward at first, but Hiccup and I soon fell into easy conversation, thankfully. His friendship meant a lot to me, it would have been sad if that single moment had made things awkward between us.

"Rapunzel? Did you hear your father?"

My eyes snapped up to see Mother staring at me expectantly from across the dinner table. My fork froze about two inches from my mouth. "What?"

She gave me a smile. "Your father has decided you may go to your friend's piano concert tonight." Before I could rush to thank then, she held up a finger. "But you are to remain with us at all times while outside the palace walls, and we are bringing an armed escort to ensure nothing happens."

"Oh, thank you so much! Nothing will happen, everything will be perfect!" I exclaimed, feeling a huge smile stretch across my lips.

As soon as dinner was over I quickly made my way up to my room to change with the help of Cassandra, then met my parents and Eugene down at the palace entrance. An armed guard of six soldiers was waiting there for us, and together we all marched down to the village. As soon as we entered, a man announced our presence, and everyone parted to let us through. I wanted to greet the villagers, but the escort kept marching, taking us straight to the concert hall. Once we were there we were seated immediately, and then the concert began.

Hookhand took the stage and put on a magnificent performance. I had only glimpsed a bit of his talent before—first when he told me of his dream, and then during our lessons as he taught me, but nothing could have prepared me to see him perform. The whole crowd gave a standing ovation at the end—even my parents stood and gave applause. They looked like they were enjoying themselves, and so far everything was going great. After the concert we waited until everyone had left, then went out into the foyer and met up with Hookhand to congratulate him.

I ran over and threw my arms around his neck in a hug. "You were amazing out there! How did it feel?"

"Like a dream come true," he answered as I pulled away. He looked as happy as I did the day I returned home to my parents. "Did you see the picture they put up on the wall?" I turned to follow his pointed finger. On a wall lined with other accomplished pianists—Beethoven, Bach, Mozart—was a portrait of Hookhand, grinning from ear to ear. Before I could reply Eugene walked up to him.

"Hookhand, my man! That was some great piano playing," Eugene said, shaking his hand.

"Yes, that was very good. I'm happy that someone so accomplished is teaching my daughter how to play," my father added.

As my parents and Eugene continued to talk to Hookhand, I slipped away to go look at the portraits up close. As I walked along the wall, taking in each painting, a pair of hands suddenly covered my eyes, and I felt the presence of someone right behind me, breathing down my neck. My mind suddenly went into panic mode, with my parent's warnings jumping to the forefront of my mind. I let out a scream, and the hands instantly pulled away.

"Sorry, Rapunzel, I didn't meant to scare you, I wanted to surprise you." At the familiar voice, I let out a sigh of relief and spun around to see Big Nose grinning at me, looking a little guilty. "I was gonna cover your eyes and say 'guess who' but I guess that wasn't such a smart idea."

I felt a smile tugging at my lips, feeling silly for being so quick to assume the worst. Before I could reply, though, a guard crashed into Big Nose, knocking him to the ground. Two guards followed suit, each landing on top of the other.

"No, stop!" I protested, but nobody was listening to me. A guard grabbed my elbow and pulled me away from the scene, and then formed a circle around me. "Get off him!"

Eugene ran over, trying to pry the guards from Big Nose. "Whoa, calm down! He's a friend of ours. He wasn't trying to hurt Rapunzel."

My parents hurried over, Father's face etched into a scowl. "What do you think you were doing to my daughter?!"

"I was trying to surprise her…" came Big Nose's muffled voice.

"That's just Big Nose," Hookhand said dismissively, "He wouldn't harm a fly."

Father glared down at the pile of guards on top of him before ordering them to stand up and let him go. I managed to push my way past the guards and ran over to him, brushing the dust from off his clothes. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. You should see Friday nights at the Snugly Duckling, this is nothing."

I smiled at the memory of the bar that held so many memories. I had wanted to visit for a while now, but knew that if Mother and Father were against me simply going out in the village, they surely wouldn't let me visit a bar filled with such a rough-looking crowd, no matter what they'd done in the past to help me. I had to take small steps and slowly work my way up to bigger things—like visiting the Snuggly Duckling and exploring the world. "So, what did you think of Hookhand's performance?"

"Oh, it was great! Assunta and I loved it!"

I gasped and felt a huge smile tugging at my lips. "Assunta? Oh, who is that? Is she a lady friend?"

A blush spread across his cheeks. "She is, and maybe something a little more. I met her at the party your parents held. I want you to meet her. It's because of you that we met."

"Oh, I would love to—"

"Rapunzel, we must be getting home," Mother interrupted. "It's getting late."

I saw Big Nose's face fell a little at her comment and turned to face her. "But Mother, I just—"

"Your friend and his lady friend can visit the castle sometime, how would that be? We can arrange a meeting with all your old friends from the village," Mother said, and turned her gaze to Big Nose. "Is that alright with you?"

"Sure, that sounds great. Well, I'll see you around, Rapunzel." He gave a wave as I was drawn back into a tight circle of guards.

* * *

Once I made it to my room, I opened the door to Pascal's cage and flopped down on my bed. Cassandra had helped me undress, but now, finally, I was alone. As I laid on my large bed, I felt Pascal crawl over to me, nudging my shoulder. I sat up and leaned against the pillows, drawing my legs up to my chest. Pascal climbed up and sat on top of my knees so that we were at eye level. He gave me an expectant look, and I knew he wanted to hear about my day.

"It _had_ been going so well. Father and Mother let me attend Hookhand's concert, but then afterwards Big Nose tried to surprise me by putting his hands over my eyes, and the guards thought I was being attacked! So they tackled him, and Mother and Father didn't seem too happy on the way back to the palace." Pascal gave me a sympathetic look. "But it wasn't _all_ bad. I finally got to see Hookhand live his dream. Oh! And something else happened too…" I felt a smile pulling at my lips despite the sour end to my night.

"Do you remember Mr. Haddock?" When Pascal nodded, I went on, "Well, I found out that he loves art—just like me! Of course, he's more into sketching than painting, but his pictures were really good. We painted a picture together since my class with Hookhand was cancelled, and it's the first time I've enjoyed painting in _days_. Oh, and he told me his first name—Hiccup." At this Pascal let out a squeak of laughter. "I know it's a bit unusual, but it's not as odd as Hookhand or Bruiser," I said, remembering all the odd names of my friends from the _Snuggly Duckling_.

As soon as that thought crossed my mind, something seemed to click. Gears turned in my head, and I furrowed my eyebrows in concentration. Hiccup's name _was_ strange, but was it strange enough to be considered Viking? Could Hiccup be a Viking? I shook the thoughts away, making a mental note to ask Hookhand about it tomorrow during our piano lesson.

I turned my attention back to Pascal, and he seemed to sense that I had more to say about Hiccup. Opening my mouth to speak, I tried to find the words to describe what had happened earlier in the paint room, but after a few moments of silence I closed my mouth and decided against it. What _could_ I say? No, even I didn't understand it, so how could I begin to explain it to Pascal?

After a couple seconds of silence Pascal gestured for me to continue, but I just shrugged and shook my head. "Never mind, it's nothing." I picked Pascal up and placed him on the pillow next to mine. "I should get some sleep now. I have to be up bright and early for classes!"

Pascal easily fell into a deep sleep, but I seemed to toss and turn long after I'd blown out the candle on my bedside table.

* * *

The next day I was yawning through most of my classes, though Hookhand was the only one who asked if I'd had trouble sleeping the previous night. I told him that I didn't know the cause of my sleeplessness, not willing to tell him that the events of the day had kept me awake into the early hours of the morning.

"Hookhand?" My fingers paused in playing the keys, and I turned to face my instructor. "Would _Hiccup_ be considered a Viking name? Or is it just an unusual name?"

Hookhand raised an eyebrow as he turned to meet my gaze. "It's a Viking name all right. I even knew a Chieftain who gave that name to his son. He was a scrawny, pale little thing—no Viking in him at all. He was always messing something up. The name fit him, though, since its Viking tradition to call the runt of the litter Hiccup. Why?"

"I met someone with that name," I said with a shrug. Maybe that was what Hiccup was trying to hide—that he was a Viking. But then another question arose—why would he try to hide it?

I briefly mulled over the fact that Hookhand knew a boy named Hiccup. Could it be the same Hiccup who worked in the stables? No, probably not. He said the Hiccup he knew was the son of a Chieftain, and the son of a Chieftain wouldn't be working in the stables in a kingdom far away from his own. The homeland of the Vikings was so far away that it would take months to travel there.

Besides, he had said the boy he knew was scrawny, pale, and always messing things up. Hiccup didn't have bulging muscles under that dark green shirt he wore, but he certainly wasn't scrawny or pale, and he seemed to be quite capable at his job. Hookhand had also said that the "runt of the litter" was traditionally called Hiccup, which I took to mean smaller-than-average Vikings, meaning there must be a good number of people with that name. Surely not all Vikings were as big as my friends from the _Snuggly Duckling._ So Hookhand's Hiccup and my Hiccup couldn't possibly be the same person. Wait, did I just think _my_ Hiccup?

I quickly shook the thought away and turned my eyes back to the keyboard while stifling a yawn, trying to remember what exercise we had been practicing. "Um…what scale were we learning?"

Hookhand gave a laugh and reached forward, showing me again.

* * *

After music class Cassandra helped me change, as normal, but just as I was about to leave the room Pascal started squeaking from his cage. I paused in the doorway, and then walked over to his cage.

"What's wrong, Pascal?" He pointed at himself with his tail, and then at me before acting as if he was riding a horse. "You want to go to my horsemanship class with me?" He gave a nod, then made a little squeak.

I took my riding hat off before unlatching the cage's door and held out my hand. Pascal crawled into it and I lifted him up to my head so he could hide under my hat. If Mother found out I was taking Pascal anywhere outside my room, she could be mad, or scared. Either outcome was something I wanted to avoid. Making sure to leave enough room for Pascal to be comfortable, I left the room. As I made my way down to the stables I hoped that Hiccup wouldn't be afraid of him like Mother. He didn't seem the type to be afraid of a chameleon, though.

When we entered the stalls, I felt it was safe for Pascal to come out, so I took my hat off and let him crawl down to my shoulder. Hiccup glanced at me and then did a double take, his eyes widening when he saw Pascal. "Is that a lizard?"

I chuckled. "No, this is my friend, Pascal. He's a chameleon. He's heard a lot about you, and wanted to meet you."

"Heard a lot about me, huh?" Hiccup said, a big grin spreading across his face. When I realized that, I felt a blush creep across my cheeks. Before I could respond, Hiccup turned his gaze to my companion. "All good things, I hope."

Pascal turned to me and gestured towards Hiccup, so I held out my hand towards him.

"Nice to meet you, Pasca—" He was cut off when Pascal leaned forward, only inches away from his face. He gave Hiccup his signature stare—the same one he had given Eugene the first day we met. With wide eyes and a silent threat in them, Pascal held his gaze, while Hiccup's eyes widened slightly in surprise.

His gaze flickered over to me. "Now that's the stare of a dragon right there—no fear at all."

"But he's a big softie on the inside," I said, bringing him back to my cheek and giving him a little nuzzle.

"Um, may I…?" He took a step forward and gestured towards Pascal. I looked at Pascal for permission before extending the hand that was holding Pascal. He climbed over to Hiccup's outstretched arm, while Hiccup took his free arm and lifted it to scratch beneath Pascal's chin. Suddenly his whole body went limp and a content hum escaped his mouth.

My eyes widened as Hiccup let out a chuckle, handing him back to me. "How did you _do_ that?"

His grin widened. "It's just a little trick I picked up from back where I'm from."

"And that would be…?" I was genuinely curious, but my question has a teasing tone to it, so Hiccup wouldn't have to answer if he didn't feel comfortable.

He waged a finger at me. "Nice try. Anyway, where I'm from we have these…um, these large lizards. They all have these pleasure sensors in the same spot. I guess chameleons are the same."

Pascal had quickly recovered and was pointed excitedly at Hiccup, then gave me a thumbs up. "Well, you've certainly won him over. That's no easy feat."

"I guess I'm just special," he joked.

"I guess you are," I said, and a surprised look crossed his face at me genuine comment. A slight tinge of pink spread across his cheeks before he abruptly turned around.

"Um, well we better get started on your lessons."

I put Pascal back on my shoulder and followed Hiccup.

* * *

As Hiccup led Angel around the paddock, my mind kept repeating Hookhand's earlier words. It would seem strange if Hiccup wasn't a Viking, considering he had the name of one. And if he was, that could possibly be why he didn't want to talk about his past. But why would he want to hide that fact? Vikings weren't accepted everywhere, I knew that, but they were accepted here in the kingdom of Corona—as long as they didn't pillage and steal, that is.

"Hiccup, are you a Viking?"

I immediately knew the question had been too personal when his whole body froze and he came to a stop right in front of the horse. He had just started to turn at the corner of the pen, so I got a view of him from the side. Green eyes had narrowed, and his jaw was clenched tight. His grip on the reigns slowly tightened—turning his knuckles white. He was silent for a few moments and I began to wonder if he was going to answer at all. Finally, he drew in a breath and shook his head.

"No, I'm not one of them." At this sentence all the tension in him seemed to drain, leaving him looking a bit deflated. The animosity in his voice left me confused. What could have made him dislike Vikings so much? Sure, some of them were ruffians and thugs and raided lands, but others were good and nice, like my friends at the Snuggly Duckling.

"Not all Vikings are bad. Some of them are actually very nice people."

The corner of Hiccup's lip quirked up in what I could only describe as a sardonic smile. "Have you ever met one?"

"Of course, most of my friends are Vikings."

Hiccup's eyes widened and he gave me a disbelieving look as he turned to face me fully. "What? There are Vikings here?"

"Yeah. There's a bar just outside the village called The Snuggly Duckling. That's where they all hang out." At this piece of information Hiccup's eyes widened in alarm, so I quickly added, "But they're all very nice! When I escaped from my tower, that was one of the first places I visited, and they've helped me out on more than one occasion. There's Hookhand, Big Nose, Bruiser—"

Hiccup didn't seem to know what to say as I rattled off my long list of Viking friends. Finally, he gave a little shake of his head. "Well I'm glad you've had a better experience with them than I have." Before I could ask what Hiccup meant by that, he continued, "Why did you think I was a Viking?"

"Well, Hookhand told me that Hiccup was a Viking name, and that they called the runt of the litter Hiccup." No need to tell him that I'd specifically asked Hookhand about his name to learn more about him. Hiccup turned and gave me a strange look, and I realized I might have offended him. "Uh, not that I think that name fits _you._ "

A smile pulled at his lips. "Well, I wasn't always this muscular." He lifted an arm and flexed, making me laugh. "It is a Viking name, I'll admit, but…I'm not a Viking."

"Alright, but I hope that…" I trailed off and Hiccup looked up to meet my gaze. "I hope one day you'll tell me where you _are_ from, and who you really are."

He just gave me a small smile. "The past doesn't matter to me—what matters is who I am now. I'm Hiccup Haddock, Stable Master to the King and Queen of Corona. That's all there is to it. I'm nothing more and nothing less than that."

* * *

 **Happy Memorial Day to all my American readers! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and thanks for all the support! :)**

 **Noctus Fury: You know, I didn't notice that until you mentioned it, but the horse is a lot like Toothless, lol.** **Yeah, I have seen the series and love it! :) It's toned down and geared more towards kids, but it's cute and they've got the characters pretty close to how they were in the movie, though that was one thing that confused me too: Rapunzel's mother so willing to let her go out and see the world only 6 months after getting her back. Although I do love her relationship with her mother in the series, she really does need a good mom after living with Gothel for 18 years.**

 **Aw, thank you! The world does need more Hiccunzel. I've never thought about it before, but I can see Hiccandra working out, she is a lot like Astrid in some ways. I totally agree about Hiccther! I try not to mention shipping that couple just because people hate it so much, which I don't get either. Maybe in the first season, but Heather has been nothing but loyal to the Dragon Riders since then, even risking her own life, and like you said, she's a best girl friend to Astrid, which I think Astrid needs. I only found like 1 fanfiction for them, which is a shame, I think Hiccup always had a soft spot for her and think they work well together.**

 **Lol, yes, the most popular King of your time! Next you'll just need to invent Advil! :P** **Haha, well I wouldn't say he doesn't know art, but he's certainly doesn't appreciate Rapunzel's art style, which, in this time period, would be considered before her time, but he shall get what's coming to him :)** **And don't worry, I love long reviews and replying to them, and thanks so much for your reviews! :) I only wish I didn't have to wait 3 weeks before replying, lol.**


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